


falling (and being picked up)

by suddendeathin-carolina (destr0ya)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 03:06:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3634323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destr0ya/pseuds/suddendeathin-carolina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa teaches Clarke how to ride a horse. Clarke sucks at horseriding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	falling (and being picked up)

****

"Lexa, we've been out here for _hours_."

Clarke tries not to come across ungrateful, because she isn't. It's just that when Lexa had offered to teach Clarke how to ride a horse, Clarke hasn't envisioned that it would take quite so long.

They've been in the clearing for a solid five hours or so now, and Clarke feels so tired and she's still no better at horse riding than she was when she woke up.

"You need to learn how to ride, Clarke. Travelling on foot makes easy targets."

It's the same statement Lexa has been repeating all morning, and while Clarke knows there's some truth to it, she can't stop herself from rolling her eyes and scoffing.

"Yeah, and yet your cavalry warriors have still been easy picking for the Mountain Men."

It's unnecessary, Clarke knows that as soon as she says it, but she is sweating hard under the harsh sunlight and she's sure her hands are blistered and raw from holding onto the reins so hard, and she just needed to let out some frustration. Lexa's jaw clenches and she ducks her head.

She pats the horse on the nose and steps away, her eyes never meeting Clarke's.

“Lexa, i’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

"Straighten up or you'll fall."

Lexa cuts her off and stands back a few feet. Clarke tries to do as she says and straighten her back in the saddle, but the horse dips his head suddenly and Clarke feels herself slip sideways.

Her foot tries to find the stirrup but misses, and she kicks the side of the horse.

Hard.

Clarke barely has time to grab the reins before the horse takes off at a gallop.

She's flying.

She must be.

There's no way a horse could run this fast.

Trees turn into a green blur as she passes, and the horses body twists from side to side to avoid collision.

Clarke tries to remember what Lexa had taught her, but she draws a blank, and all she can do is wrap the reins around her fingers and try not to fall.

She fails that pretty quickly.

The horse lurches forwards as it jumps over a stream of water and Clarke's thrown back.

She grasps desperately for something to hold onto, but the horse is long gone and Clarke hits the ground, twigs snapping under her body.

She's still awake, at least, and she's aware that she's lying half in the flow of the stream, and that her pants are rapidly getting wet but her head feels too heavy to move so she lies there.

Clarke hears rushed footfall and she tries to blink away her blurred vision, grimacing at the coppery taste of blood in her mouth.

"Clarke!"

Lexa's shout is panicked and Clarke hears leaves rustle as she kneels down beside her.

Clarke tries to prop herself up on one elbow, letting out a groan when she feels her entire head throb with pain. She puts a hand against her forehead and feels blood soak her fingers.

"Shit."

Lexa is frozen in place, eyes comically wide and her forehead creased in worry and Clarke would laugh about how ridiculous she looks if she wasn't quite so nauseous.

“Lexa, i’m sure it’s not as bad as it looks.”

Her efforts of reassurance seem to at least partially work, because Lexa nods and she’s offering a hand to Clarke to pull her to her feet.

“We should go back to camp straight away, one of my Healers can look at your wound.”

Clarke takes Lexa’s hand and she’s more successful this time, managing to stand despite the fact that her head feels like its full of wet cement.

The pair move forwards, and Clarke feels her entire body crumble as she tries to take a step.

She’s spared a fall onto the ground by Lexa, who wraps an arm around Clarke’s waist, keeping her upright.

“Fuck.” Clarke breathes, grimacing against the pain. “I think my foot is broken.”

Clarke shifts her weight and lifts her foot off the ground, trying her hardest to ignore the sharp pain that runs through her bones when she moves it. She’s aware that she is probably leaning on Lexa’s shoulder too much, so she grabs onto the trunk of the tree beside them and lowers herself gently onto the ground.

“Clarke, what are you doing?”

Clarke props her injured foot up on a rock, leaning back against the tree and trying to blink away the blurred edges of her vision.

“Lexa, i’ll be fine.” She assures the other girl. “You can come back for me. I couldn’t expect you to prop me up all the way back to camp.”

Lexa hesitates, biting her lip as she thinks.

“No.”

“Lexa-”

“I’m not leaving you here, Clarke.”

Lexa reaches out and her arms hook under Clarke’s elbows, pulling her to her feet slowly, giving Clarke enough time to balance her weight, so she doesn’t stand on her injured foot.

She doesn’t let go, and Clarke’s close enough to see the faint pink glow on her cheeks from being in the sun all day, and the way her eyes are still tense with worry.

“Stop worrying, you’ll give yourself wrinkles.” Clarke jokes, but she can’t hold back a sharp hiss as the throbbing in her head returns.

She shivers and looks up, noticing the appearance of some menacing looking clouds somewhat dulling the sun.

“It is going to rain.” Lexa states, and she places one of Clarke’s hands on her shoulder before turning her back. “I’ll carry you.”

Clarke looks up at the sky again, and sure enough she begins to feel the faint mist of rain across her cheeks.

She hops forwards a little on her uninjured foot and places her hand on Lexa’s other shoulder. Lexa adjusts her hair, sweeping it over one shoulder so Clarke has a better grip, before she pulls Clarke into a piggy-back, slowly so as to not unbalance the injured girl.

Clarke relaxes her white-knuckle grip and leans into the other girl, shifting herself until she’s adequately comfortable.

“Ready?” Lexa asks, and her hold is steady on Clarke’s legs.

“Yes.” Clarke affirms. “Thank you, Lexa.”

Clarke rests her head forward onto Lexa’s shoulder, and she’s sure she sees the corners of Lexa’s mouth twitch upwards.

Sure enough to Lexa’s predictions, they’ve been moving for no more than ten minutes when it really begins to pour.

Clarke feels drowsy and she closes her eyes, wishing that the pounding ache in her head would subside. She’s half asleep and Lexa is humming a tune under her breath, when Clarke feels a twist in her gut and she remembers the way the horse bolted.

“I’m really sorry about your horse.”

Lexa shrugs.

“There are others. You are more important.”

Clarke smiles, and lets her eyes close again as she rests her head against Lexa’s shoulder.

When Clarke wakes up, the rain has ceased and the overcast daylight has been replaced by dusk.

“Camp is just up ahead.”

Clarke turns her head to watch Lexa as she walks. Her face is still damp from the earlier rain and the soft wisps of hair that fall across her forehead are curled from damp. She looks softer without her warpaint, more youthful, but Clarke can still see the leader’s hardness in her eyes that ages her far beyond her years.

Clarke sees torches up ahead, and she can feel Lexa stand taller as she approaches her camp. As they reach the entrance, Lexa begins to fire off rapid instructions in Trigedasleng, that Clarke doesn’t even try to understand.

Lexa lowers Clarke to the ground slowly, and Clarke almost stumbles at the change but Lexa’s arm is around her waist, keeping her standing.

“We’re nearly there.” Lexa says quietly, her eyes meeting Clarke’s.

They move as quickly as Clarke can manage and they’re no more than five steps into the actual camp when they’re met by a tall, broad-shouldered man who Lexa greets, gesturing to Clarke’s foot.

“This is Abbott, our Healer.” She tells Clarke, as they follow him into a tent.

Once inside, Abbott lifts Clarke easily onto the table in the centre of the room, and immediately sets to work.

The Healer pours alcohol onto a rag which he rubs across the gash on Clarke’s forehead, and she gasps, biting down on her lip. Despite the initial pain, Abbott works quickly and his hands are gentle, which she appreciates due to the persistent ache in her head.

Lexa has a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and she’s leaning against the wall of the tent, watching his movements carefully. Clarke can see droplets of water falling from Lexa’s clothes, and she frowns.

“Lexa, your clothes are wet through.” She points out. “You don’t have to stay, you should go change.”

“Don’t worry about me, Clarke.” Lexa says, and she wraps the blanket tighter around herself before shooting more instructions towards the Healer, who begins to work on Clarke’s broken foot.

By the time Clarke is bandaged up, its well after nightfall and she’s exhausted. Despite Clarke assuring her at least a dozen times that she was absolutely fine, Lexa had stayed exactly where she was until the Healer had finished.

Clarke thanks the Healer and gives him a grateful smile as he leaves, nodding his head at Lexa as he passes through the doorway.

“How are you feeling?”

Lexa crosses the room and stops in front of Clarke, resting a hand on her knee.

“Better.” Clarke says, and it’s remarkably honest as even the ache in her head has eased somewhat. “Thank you, for looking after me.”

If Lexa hears her, she doesn’t respond and her shoulders are still tense and she’s looking at Clarke as if Clarke might explode at any second.

“I thought that you were _dead_.” She says, and it’s barely a whisper but Clarke hears it. Lexa is looking at he with this faraway look in her eyes, and Clarke feels the hand pressed against her knee tense suddenly so she doesn’t say anything.

“When the horse threw you…” Lexa trails off, and her voice is louder but she is still staring holes through Clarke. “I thought you were dead. I thought that I had lost you too.”

Lexa’s voice is strained and eyes are blazing but blurred by unspilled tears, which Clarke knows not to mention.

“It’s okay, Lexa.” She says, softly as she reaches out, covering Lexa’s hand on her knee with her own. “I’m very much alive, and that’s because of you.”

“Very much alive.”

Clarke can hear Lexa repeat it over to herself, and watches as she takes a deep, shaky breath.

Lexa looks up at Clarke again, and Clarke doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know how to convey everything she wants to say, so she does the only thing she can think of.

She kisses her.

Lexa leans into Clarke, stepping in between her legs, while carefully avoiding her injured foot and she kisses back, and its soft and slow, and Clarke hopes its conveying everything she can’t say.

Lexa moves a hand to Clarke’s waist while Clarke’s hand finds the back of her neck and they’re so close that Clarke can feel the warmth of Lexa’s skin through their damp clothes.

Of course, it doesn’t last nearly as long as Clarke wants it to because she feels herself going dizzy and _damn her head_ , because she has to pull away, resting her forehead against Lexa’s.

“While this is nice, perhaps next time you should follow instructions so you don’t fall off your horse.”

Clarke shoves Lexa’s shoulder playfully, rolling her eyes and Lexa laughs.

It’s a proper laugh, that makes Lexa’s eyes light up and shakes through her entire body, shedding years of loss and sorrow in an instant, and its probably the best sound Clarke has ever heard.

 


End file.
